Interruptions
by musik577
Summary: Natasha Romanoff has had her fair share of untimely interruptions. Clintasha. One-shot.


**Interruptions**

_Inspired by…  
__**Agent Phil Coulson: **__We need you to come in.  
__**Natasha Romanoff:**__ Are you kidding? I'm working!_

…

Natasha Romanoff has had her fair share of unfortunate interruptions.

People tended to call her at the most unfavorable times, usually when she was _supposed_ to sneaking away quietly or when she was in the middle of an interrogation.

And it didn't help that her phone had a very loud ringtone.

…

There was the time when Maria had called her just as she was creeping out of a highly guarded building to ask her about which pair of shoes she should buy, asking for her opinion on whether to get the high heels, so she could stab the target, or the flats, which were easier to run in.

She told Maria she would go for the flats while simultaneously cursing her own heels as she carried them dangling in her hand as she ran, guards tearing off after her.

There was a large amount of _improvising _that needed to be done in order to succeed with her mission.

Meaning that she needed to knock a few out. Or all. Whichever she preferred.

…

She remembered the time when Clint had called her during an interrogation to wish her a happy birthday.

It wasn't a very happy birthday.

She had been taped to a chair, her hair tangled and greasy and her eyes wide and innocent.

Then a very loud ringing tone broke the silence.

She gritted her teeth and motioned for one of the men to hand her the phone.

The men looked bewildered but handed it over none the less.

"Hello?" She asked exasperatedly, arching an eyebrow at her interrogated in a _can you believe this _way.

"Hey Tasha!" Clint's cheery voice bounced loudly in her ear.

"What's up?"

"Just want to tell you to have a happy birthday of course!" She could hear his grin across the phone.

"Uh… this isn't a very good time," she eyed the gun in the man's belt warily.

"Oh… what are you up to?"

"Kinda in an interrogation right now," she muttered quickly, shooting an apologetic smile at the captor. He just returned her a confused look.

"Whoops, bad timing huh?" He replied, trying not to smile.

"Guess not," she sighed dramatically.

"Anyway, pizza when you get back 'kay?" Natasha suddenly bounced up energetically.

"Lunch or dinner?"

"If you can make lunch, then lunch _and_ dinner," Clint's mischievous voice had her laughing.

"Ok, be bout, 15 minutes?"

"I thought you were in the middle of an interrogation."

Natasha eyed the unconscious men in front of her. She had quickly knocked them out with a kick when she heard the word 'pizza'.

"All taken care of," she announced cheerfully, pulling her hands away from the broken pieces of rope.

"That was fast," he commented dryly. She smirked.

"Where's pizza again?"

…

Natasha's most memorable interruption was during a mission with Clint.

They were almost done, or so they thought, when suddenly a 20-strong army marched through the doors.

A 20-strong army against Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton.

They liked the odds.

Just as Natasha took down the first guy, her phone began to ring.

She heaved an irritated sigh and shot a look at Clint who just gave her an amused smile before placing the phone by her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, my favourite Russian assassin!" An all too familiar voice greeted her ears. She groaned.

"How did you get my number Stark?" The Russian spy did not remember a time where she would ever consider _willingly _give him her phone number.

"I got it off someone," he admitted. Natasha growled. Steve or Bruce. Damn.

"Anyway, me and Pepper were wondering whether you and Clint wanted to join us for lunch?" Stark's voice ringed in her ear as she shot another guy who was inching towards Clint.

"This is kinda not a good time," she muttered, flipping forward before catching her foot on another guy's neck, flicking upwards, all while clutching a phone to her ear. The guy crumbled immediately.

"Why?" Natasha tried not to roll her eyes at the curiosity in his tone.

"We're kinda," she grunted while twisting a guy's arm behind him, "in the middle of a mission Stark."

"Really?" his voice lit up, "can you turn on the camera? I've always wanted to see the great Black Widow and Hawkeye in action."

"No."

"Please?"

"No." She could hear Clint laughing.

"Fine. Be that way." She smiled at the little huffy tone in his voice. Suddenly she saw her camera light flash on.

"Stark, did you just hack my _phone_?" Natasha yelled down the phone, all while leaping over a man while simultaneously taking him out.

"Maybe…" He replied in a muffled tone.

"Hey Hawkeye, use your bow and arrow thingy!" Clint turned and gave the camera a sarcastic smile while shooting a man without even having to look.

"Gee, _thanks_ for that Stark," Clint rolled his eyes while a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Stark…" Even Tony could hear the warning in her voice.

"Ok! I'll turn it off," he muttered quickly, tapping something on a keyboard.

"Anyway, you guys coming?"

"Doubt it."

"Aww… But everyone's coming! Thor's in town for like a week and this is our only get together! Even Bruce and the Cap are coming!" She winced as his annoying whining voice reached her ears.

"Hey Clint," she yelled over the grunts, "Tony wants to know if we're going to lunch with them. He says everyone's going to be there," Clint turned and looked thoughtful.

"What are they having?" He inquired while hitting a guy who was running towards him with his bow.

"Italian or French I think," Tony called back, his voice muffled by the phone.

"Italian or French," Natasha relayed dutifully.

"Make it Italian and we're coming," Clint called, jumping onto a ledger.

"Italian," she informed Tony, phone clutched between her head and shoulders while she quickly jumped another man, wrapped her thighs around his neck and promptly brought him down.

"Deal."

"Okay… we'll be there in 10." Natasha hung up the phone with a sigh of relief.

"10 minutes Nat? Do you really only have that little faith in us?" Clint pretended to sound wounded as he eyed the 5 or so remaining men, all whimpering and trying to hide behind each other.

"We need to get changed, Pepper would _kill_ if we got blood on the carpet," she replied easily, quickly breaking one of the guy's legs.

"True."

"And besides, do we _really _need to get there that early?" She smiled as she felt Clint slide up beside her.

"Why don't we just keep ourselves occupied for a bit?" He returned with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Natasha leaned up and captured his lips with his. She smiled against him.

"Deal."

**Leave me a review! Tell me what you thought about it (: **


End file.
